


The Girl In The Dirty Shirt

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:06:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy does some gardening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Girl In The Dirty Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> this is a short little thing to get me back into the fandom. Will write longer fics in the near future.

 

 

  
Miranda is in constant awe of this woman in the dirty shirt. This woman that has slowly made herself at home in Miranda’s life with no apology for it. This woman who has sworn for the past month or so that she could handle cleaning Miranda’s home from top to bottom for one day, if only they could have the place to themselves with no staff, no twins, nothing.

She’s dusty and sweaty as she leans over the roof top garden, clearly without an earthly grain of knowledge as to what she’s doing exactly aside from moving dirt around with what Miranda guesses is not a gardening tool, but a metal spatula from the kitchen.

Miranda leans casually against the doorframe leading out to patio and crosses her arms as she takes in the view.

“So, it is now--” She lifts her wrist and eyes her watch, “--four-thirty, Andrea. I thought you would be done before breakfast. It is nearly dinner time.”

Andy looks over her shoulder and glares. Her cheeks are pink from exertion and too much sun. “Thank you, Miranda.” She returns her attention to the pile of dirt with a huff.

Sighing with tremendous impatience, Miranda pinches the ridge of her nose and then exclaims. “Andrea, will you please just leave it and come take a bath, for the love of everything sanitary?”

“Not if you’re going to gloat,” Andy replies, glancing over her shoulder again, “Promise you’re not going to gloat?’

Miranda’s lips purse and her eyes are reduced to slits as she considers this for a great while. “I don’t know if I can commit.”

Andy turns and sits on the ground, facing Miranda as she attempts to look up against the unforgiving summer sun, “Then I can’t commit to bathing.”

“Well, that’s really a shame because I ran you a bath and it is going to go to waste.”

“Really?” Andy smiles, betraying every ounce of antagonism she possessed only second prior. If the Runway staff could see the infamous Ice Queen now, running a bath for “other Emily”.

Miranda rolls her eyes and pushes her weight off the doorframe. “For all the fuss they make about you at your little newspaper, you sure enjoy behaving like the perfect twelve year old. Yes, really, will you please go take a bath or I will have dinner without you, I simply refuse to let you sit at the table when you smell of a gutter.”

“Aren’t you just a charmer. Help me up.” The younger woman holds both hands out and waits while Miranda strides forward in four inch stilettos and a scandalous black ensemble consisting of a very tight pencil skirt and a sheer looking long sleeve blouse Andy is sure Miranda wasn’t wearing earlier today. “Did you change?”

“Yes.” Miranda says, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, and then winces once she’s close enough to see the dark traces of dirt down Andy’s arms and some of her face. “Dear lord, did you roll around in that?”

“Yes, I did--” Andy says, moving quickly in forcing Miranda’s arms around her waist and holding them there before the older woman can get away. “--you wan to roll around with me?” She asks in a low purr.

Miranda makes an attempt to scoff and turn her face away but can’t do much for the gasp that escapes her or the increase in her heart rate when Andy holds her closely, dirty and sweaty as she may be. “Andrea, honestly.”

“Why, Ms. Priestley I do believe you’re blushin’.” Andy teases in her best Rhett Butler impersonation, stealing a quick peck from Miranda.

“Keep this up and you’ll be the next cover story at our newspaper.” Miranda said slowly.

“Yes, yes. They’ll find my body up here and they’ll say, oh that girl in the dirty shirt? She must have had it coming, wearing a an old ratty Motley Crew tee shirt in Miranda Priestley’s home.”

Miranda shakes her head and holds back a smirk as best as she can as she attempts a good scolding but fails. “You’re impossible.”

And then Andy kisses Miranda, her cheek, her lips and neck, sloppy, wet kisses, rubbing her dirty cheek anywhere she can reach before pulling back and gleaming victoriously against Miranda‘s feeble protests. “And you now have to take a bath with me, you’re filthy.”

Already blushing with anticipation, Miranda manages a dignified stance even with the dirt stains offers the other woman a very intimidating, very erotic glare that tells her young lover that she’s won as she turns to lead the way, and makes a mental note to get Andrea in compromising agreements that involve her taking a bath after, more often.

END

 


End file.
